Her
by Marzi
Summary: Hannibal bends Alana over his desk before his appointment with Will. Kink meme fill.


Something about her had drawn Will's focus. He had his own musings on a relationship with her, in the past. They were, by definition of the rest of the world, peers. Alana had never tried to hide it when she disagreed with him, and the civil way she managed it never went unnoticed. The idea of an affair, one given to him by rumors, had been interesting. Occasionally performing as people expected was not a wholly bad idea. She never made an interest known, and quite frankly, he never bothered past a stray thought.

But now. Will was interested in her. And wasn't that something.

Hannibal ran his hand down Alana's spine, smoothing the fabric of her blouse. The way she looked certainly had to be a part of it. He had his own interests in aesthetics, and though he could measure her as a pleasing woman to look at, it wasn't her biggest draw to him. Could it have been what first drew Will, though?

"Take off your skirt."

The sound of the zipper drowned out their easy breathing. She did not pant, as others partners he had in past had done. He found that appealing. Some noises were not meant for certain people, and Alana Bloom should not pant.

Did Will look at her and see a psychologist? However much he despised the idea of one being inside his mind, did he appreciate the thought of someone who could at least begin to understand it? Despite his initial reservation, he was certainly taking on with Hannibal well enough.

Projecting desires from their own relationship perhaps? But that was a fanciful thought, and one Hannibal did not need. No, there was something about her.

His hand traveled back up her spine, under her hair and gripped the back of her neck. He could smell her arousal, faint beginnings of sweat mixing with pheromones. He dug his nails into her skin and she trembled.

It could not just be her appearance, her profession. What in their relationship did she possess that Hannibal's with Will did not? They may have known each other longer, but the good Doctor Bloom had fewer personal encounters. Had fewer ways of reaching that dark place in Will's mind.

Hannibal pushed her forward until she had to turn her head, cheek flat against his desk. Her arms were across the top, avoiding his ledgers and pens, fingers pressing into the varnish, anticipating. His free hand worked open his pants.

It could not be a simple want of release, for sex. No, Will Graham would not pursue a friend for that. Had he missed something in Alana that Will could see?

What?

When he thrust into her, her breathing became sharper, heavier. Would she moan or would she plead? It was something he had not decided on. He raked his nails across his ass before gripping her hip.

She preferred beer to wine. She often disagreed with Jack Crawford. Maybe that was something. It certainly amused Hannibal.

He saw her arms tense, and she tried to raise her head, obviously displeased his with languid pace. He released her neck to tangle his fingers in her hair and tug, punctuating the soft violence with a sharp thrust from his hips.

She gasped.

Will would be arriving for his appointment within ten minutes. If he got too close to the desk, her heat would still be clinging to it. Would he know it was from her? Would he be able to smell her, as Hannibal would, still clinging to his skin?

Would he be furious? Betrayed? Aroused?

He picked up his rhythm, pants falling past his knees.

Still in her heels, stretched out as she was, Alana tried to push back against him, gain more friction. He could feel her tightening around his cock.

An independently driven woman. Will would need someone who could take care of themself, possibly even him. Was he looking for a caretaker?

Hannibal leaned into her, sliding his hand up from her hip and under her blouse to her ribs. Each breath strained against his palm and he pushed back.

The wet sounds from their bodies, the rattle of things on his desk as his frantic rhythm trembled through her to them filled the air of the office. He yanked her hair again, adding another gasp to the sounds.

Maybe he would keep her here, like this, until Will walked through the door. Maybe then he would see what it was, about her.


End file.
